wo vastly different worlds coexist in a tenuous, mysterious relationship. The first one is named Senal, a colony world of Earth's in which a sophisticated technological infrastructure supports 30 billion souls, various factions of which are at war with each other. Connected to Senal by a mysterious interdimensional gate is the world of Irion. Irion is literally an extensive flat plane bounded by mountains, beyond which lies an unseen land of death. Here, magic rules the sparse population, and the chief mage is an immortal named Irion. Seldom seen, Irion has placed the day-to-day ruling of the world named after him in the hands of his niece, Malin, herself a potent figure of power.
A trade relationship has existed between Irion and Senal through the Twil Gate for some years. Limited technology flows from Senal into Irion, in exchange for textiles and other luxury goods. But another covert exchange is spies. Senal intends to conquer Irion for lebensraum. But unbeknowst to the techno-warriors, Irion has similar plans for them, to bring Senal under the rule of the Goddess who created Irion the world.
In the midst of this intrigue sits the innocent Jedda Martele, a simple trader who happens to have mastered the intricate, semi-musical languages of Irion. Jedda and six comrades from Senal are on a mission to meet Malin. But after arduous travel, they arrive at Malin's stronghold to learn that Malin has discovered the imminent invasion from Senal. Malin dismisses the delegation with a warning that the invasion will be thwarted. Unbelieving, Jedda and her countrymen, including the jingoistic Tarma, return to the port city nearest the Twil Gate. There they witness the miraculous one-woman destruction of the immense war fleet from Senal. Malin announces that all the visitors from Senal are now to be expelled and the Twil Gate shut down.
But for some reason, Jedda is made an exception, remaining behind in the strange land that has sunk subtle barbs into her soul. What follows is Jedda's gradual indoctrination into the hidden history and culture of Irion. She learns that she is under the patronage of Irion himself—but that paradoxically Irion is her biggest enemy. Will Jedda survive this dual attention? Only if she manages to master the rudiments of her new world's magic.
World-building on an epic scale
Jim Grimsley comes to us from the mainstream, having begun his career with award-winning contemporary novels. His first genre work, Kirith Kirin (2000), is something of a prequel to the current book. But Grimsley exhibits an intimate knowledge of our field's tropes, and seems determined and talented enough to build honorably and effectively on SF's heritage. The current novel harks back to such landmark authors as Philip Jose Farmer, Ursula K. Le Guin, Isaac Asimov, Andre Norton and J.R.R. Tolkien.
Farmer's hand is seen in the "pocket universe" nature of Irion. As the novel progresses, we get tantalizing hints about the Goddess who created the flat cosmos, until we begin to suspect that some super-science was at work, not magic. Grimsley's afterword affirms this distinction, that his world-building has a scientific rather than a supernatural basis. Le Guin's influence is visible in two areas: The magic of Irion is predicated on the power of language, much as in Le Guin's Earthsea series. Grimsley goes Le Guin one better, however, in the intricate underpinnings he invents for his magical system. And the clash of diametrically opposed cultures resonates with Le Guin's The Left Hand of Darkness (1969) and The Dispossessed (1974). A probable tribute to Asimov's Caves of Steel (1954) lies in the culture of Senal, whose inhabitants are rigidified agoraphobes in a synthetic landscape. And Andre Norton's Witch World series seems a likely inspiration for the culture of Irion.
But surely Tolkien gets the biggest nod, thanks to Grimsely's program of thick culture-building. (And could it be coincidence that Jedda's fate comes to depend on a magic ring?) The history and mythos and languages and different races of Irion are nearly as densely explicated and interwoven as those of Middle-earth. The cumulative effect, however, is sometimes closer to that of reading The Silmarillion (1977) rather than that of reading Lord of the Rings (1954-56). An unalert reader will begin to drown in the alien jargon and cast of characters.
Having sought to adduce a few of Grimsely's inspirations, it remains to be said that this work is an organic, idiosyncratic whole. Grimsely's plotting, which involves time travel, lends a unique spin to the book. One wishes for a better view of the culture of Senal, which is totally offstage. But on the whole, the dark fascination exerted by Irion more than compensates for that lack. The novel's title is best explained by one character's statement: "What an irony ... that what's ordinary in one world is so extraordinary in the other." Grimsely's novel is extraordinary in all worlds.
